I killed the heel

I ripped again last night, and the yarn looked OK for another go round with short rows. About 4 rows into it, I just sat there and looked at the thing, and I pulled out the needles and ripped back again. I've really enjoyed this yarn because of how it reminded me of comfort but I realized that the sock was no longer speaking to me. It was quiet. It was feeling a little woozy and its just needed it to be over. I knit in the half row of waste yarn, and it was wide awake again. The yarn flew through my fingers, and I'm well on my way up the calf. This sock is thinking 'Peasant heel indeed'.

I'll toss the big ball of yellow yarn from an old project into the bag for the weekend, and I'll figure it out then. I don't like this to defeat me, any more than I liked feeling like knitting defeated me.

It was a nutsy day yesterday. It feel like all I did was go back and forth paying for parking, but my desk job tells me I did accomplish something.

More drugs today, more consults, and then maybe by next week, we'll know what and when Son 1 will be taken care of. The UD guy says its an internal thing, probably caused by some of the grafting material that didn't take. To kill everything, they have to go in, take out all the hardware, clean everything out, then put in all the hardware again, then do the new bone graft, then probably do a skin graft to cover the hole that doesn't seem to want to heal. Its going to be months more. Son 1 admitted that he knew it wasn't right, but he said he just could not admit it to himself. He was hoping he wouldn't have to face it for a while yet. I thought we might have a pity party, but he takes things pretty stoically once he knows what is going to happen. It's the not knowing that makes him nuts.

I will hold my own pity party in his stead, and I admit to all this making me feel like I just want to buy yarn, close the door and knit, crochet and embroider myself silly. I want to watch nice movies, and hear nothing controversial. I just want to lock out the world. While the idea of knitting and crocheting and embroidering sounds like a fine plan, locking myself away from the world won't work, and pity will get me nowhere. If I can't be happy the least I can do is my needlework.